memory
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Atropos dreams
I dreamed about a dead poets son who self annihilated I took an elevator that went to nowhere and stopped between floors. He was darkly handsome His smile comfortably intimate, as if this weren’t death we were living in as if his life had never happened. I becamelost in his studio, scattered with the detritus… Continue reading
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I am wasting time. Flat out sick the last week contemplating my life for now I’m forced to. There is nothing to distract me from it now. I have friends who are not friends but opportunists, and there will never be anything else with them except for what we can mutually take from one another.… Continue reading
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reminisce
there are no stars tonight justsnow clouds, and some light somewhere aboveor belowradiates the color rose the night presses in closet-likeand freedom seems far off like Mayand spring and the love that grewlong ago waving grassesflowers and summer rainwhat if doors could be openonce shut and clocks could be rewoundhow different the world would besecond… Continue reading
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Ophelia
missing.always.missing. hole cut out of my life I am you just another version, that’s all. now, in the twilight of middle age I discover I am merely flesh and blood with no heart. the winds blow through my soul encountering no obstacle on the grassless prairie still, I am far away. haunted by my demons… Continue reading
About Me
poet, diarist, writer, teacher, woman, fragile, strong, northern life is my domicile, my barbaric yawp exudes against the tide
Diary of an American 